


Taboo

by monaboyd_archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-10
Updated: 2004-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-11 18:23:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4446890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monaboyd_archivist/pseuds/monaboyd_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance occurance leads to the discovery of new kinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taboo

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the Monaboyd.net Archive, which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years . To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile.

Many thanks to sunsetmog for the beta, and also to fugitivehound for pointing out a slight point of view issue.  
Disclaimer: Never happened. A work of fiction only.

 

 

It began with a mistake.

A mix-up. A random chance. Combined with twisted curiosity and dangerous recklessness.

He found them in his laundry, when it had just been returned. He noticed them right away- they stood out, a glaring contrast to his faded T-shirts and underpants.

Black lace, obviously expensive. Not a thong, but small, skimpy, designed to be sexy. This was someone's best underwear, and it had somehow ended up in his laundry.

Intrigued, Dom pulled them out of the tangled mass of clothing, examined them closely, fascinated by their alienness. The feel of this most feminine of fabrics felt good to him: so different to the soft cotton of his boxers. And these panties were clearly designed to be sexual. He ran the rough lace between his fingers, imagining how it would feel against his skin if he wore them, how it would feel rubbing against his cock.

He'd always been fascinated by women's clothes, always felt a faint pull towards them, a desire to wear them, to see how they sat on his hips, which were narrower than a woman's, and his wider shoulders.

He glanced over at his reflection, studying himself. He was wearing tracksuit bottoms, and nothing else- it would be easy to just slip them off his hips and pull on the scrap of black lace, to look at his reflection as he wore them, and feel the rub of the strange fabric. He tried to picture himself in the feminine item of clothing, imagine how the lace would look when deformed by the contours of his erection. Imagining it, he felt himself hardening, a flush of arousal rising on his cheeks.

Reaching down with his right hand and grabbing his waistband, his left hand still clutching the pants, he hesitated.

This was risky- he shared the trailer with four other people. Any of them could walk in at any time.

He felt a shiver of arousal at that. So he had a voyeuristic streak he hadn't previously encountered. That was… interesting.

He decided to take a risk, in a rush of adrenaline and adventurousness and rising horniness, and pulled off his trousers as hurriedly as he could, then, hesitating only slightly, pulled the delicate material over his hips.

They were tight, but not uncomfortably so; the pressure from the tightness was more pleasurable than painful. He examined his reflection closely- the contrast between the femininity of the fragile-looking lace with the muscled, masculine thighs was startling; strange even. As he looked at himself, he reached down and began to stroke himself though the lace, feeling the rasp against his skin, revelling in the new, taboo experience. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he began to slowly jerk off, rubbing the material against himself as much as he could, gasping every time the seam rubbed roughly against the sensitive skin.

He felt the familiar tightening in his groin; he was getting close, and this had to be one of the most erotic experiences of his life, when he heard the sound of the door opening.

His eyes slamming open, he saw Elijah staring at him in shock. He began to stammer out an explanation, some sort of apology, but the words died on his lips as he saw the gleam in the other man's eyes.

Elijah gazed in surprise at the sight of Dom wanking off in the middle of the room, with a pair of women's knickers. Tension crackled in the air, thick, hot and edgy. The jolting unexpectedness of the fragile lace with the maleness of Dom’s body intrigued Elijah also, the illicitness of the act exciting him. Elijah felt a rush of heat rise in him at the eroticism of the scene, his vision blurring, his breath coming in quick gasps.

He strode across the room, and grabbed hold of Dom, who gaped up at him, shocked.

He bent Dom over the dressing table, his head resting against the mirror, feeling the coolness of the glass against his forehead. What the fuck had gotten into Elijah? Though he found that he was turned on by this display of dominance- yet another kink he was finding out he had today. Today had certainly been an education in his buried sexual deviancies. He felt Elijah roughly pull down the underwear, but only as far as his thighs- he could still feel the roughness of it against his legs.

Searching among the bottles that littered the table, Elijah grabbed a bottle of hand lotion. Not perfect, but it would do. Smearing some onto his fingers, he used it to quickly and roughly prepare Dom, who winced at the burn of it, squirming underneath Elijah. Rubbing the rest of the lotion on his fingers onto his cock, Elijah pushed into Dom, who bit his lip at the pain, trying to stifle a whimper, and not quite managing it, his moan of pain sounding smothered by the tension which still crowded the air.

Holding tightly to Dom's hips, Elijah thrust into him, keeping the lace in a position where it rubbed against his cock as he pushed into and out of Dom, the rasping feel of the fabric making him bite his lower lip in mingled pleasure and pain. Dom’s submission, as he lay pliant on the table beneath him, sent a thrill of power coursing through Elijah, as he entangled his fingers into Dom’s hair, pulling his head back slightly.

 

Dom, pinned to the wooden surface of the table, his hands scrabbling for a grip on the edge, felt the initial burn and pain give way slowly to pleasure, his erection trapped between his hips and the smooth wood, rubbing against the surface with every thrust. He noticed dimly that the mirror was clouded with his breath, and that occasionally his head would be knocked against it, but it barely registered against the heat, the feel of skin on skin, and the bruising knocks of his thighs and hips against the table. All the while, in the back of his mind, the thought of the risk of discovery, that someone could walk in on them fucking, him in lace panties, and the risk again sent a shudder of lust through his already shivering frame. The tight feeling, which had been driven off by the shock of discovery, began to rise up again, and as Elijah raked his nails down his back, licking the blood off as he went, Dom was coming, hitting his head off the mirror hard, but not noticing, so intense was the orgasm that wracked through his sweat-covered body; and then Elijah was coming too, stifling a shout by biting hard onto Dom's shoulder.

Which was why Dom was now slipping into high heels, while carefully adjusting the positioning of his black mini skirt.


End file.
